


The Library

by Syrum



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fluff, I seriously couldn't resist, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, loki is a librarian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has been working in the library since he left school, Thor is a notorious womaniser, Natasha likes messing with her friend's lives a little too much and Steve just wants his book!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Loki gains an admirer

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I fandom-hopped again. Sorry. Still working on the (twelve? thirteen?) other fics I have on the go/promised to people, but inspiration struck and I could not help myself! Dirty AU, sorrynotsorry :D

The smell of dust and paper was, for some inexplicable reason, rather comforting. Loki sat, his back pressed against the old wood of shelves erected long before his birth and likely to still be standing long after his death, leafing through the well-read tome on his lap, eyes darting across the words littering the pages behind thin-rimmed spectacles, lips curled into the smallest of smirks as the villain of the story got one over on the hero, for the third time that chapter. It was inevitable that the hero would win in the end, they always did, but that knowledge did put the librarian off in the slightest.

“Hello?” A low, soft voice rung out across the library, seeming louder than it ordinarily would have, followed by footsteps as the new arrival stepped from the carpeted entrance onto the flagstones that covered most of the building. Loki snapped the book shut, the sound echoing, and glanced up at the ticking clock on the wall; still ten minutes until his break was over, but as the only member of staff on duty that afternoon, he had little choice but to tend to whoever had just stepped through the doors. With a long-suffering sigh, the dark-haired man stood from his position on the floor, legs cold and stiff from the stone tiles, removing his glasses from his nose and pocketing them. The footsteps of whoever had invaded his sanctum had died off, the visitor clearly somewhere amongst the bookshelves on the other side of the room they were in, where carpet covered the ancient flooring once more and comfortable seats drew enthralled readers to sit.

It wasn’t that Loki particularly disliked that half of the library; it still contained books, although more aimed for young adults and children than the type he would normally go for, along with a fairly sizeable graphic novel selection and, for some reason, a section on Chinese history. It was just that it was so much quieter on his side of the room, amongst books about electronics, adult fantasy and little-known celebrity biographies.

“Can I help you?” It hadn’t taken particularly long to find the visitor, bent near enough double inspecting the titles in a section Loki was certain had been labelled as manga the week before. Not that he was in the least bit surprised it had changed; the old crone who ran the place liked to mix things up, ‘keep the customers on their toes’ she said. Mostly it just irritated them, and he was certain she did it for that reason and that reason alone.

“Ah!” The man stood, turning to face Loki, a sheepish smile upon his lips revealing a glimpse of perfect, almost startlingly white teeth. Blonde hair flopped down across the stranger’s forehead, dislodged by the sudden movement and ignored, at least for the moment. “Sorry, I was just looking for something.” He paused for a moment, before rather too loudly adding “a book.”

It took all of his willpower to bite back the snide comment and the roll of eyes that might have ordinarily followed such an inane remark. He was, after all, at work, and it would not do for him to annoy yet another customer. Not that it would particularly get him into trouble, but Loki did take his work seriously. “Was it a particular title you were after?” The dark-haired librarian tried in his sweetest tone, immediately regretting it when the stranger’s features brightened and he took a step closer.

“It was ‘European Empires from Conquest to Collapse’, by…” The blonde stranger paused for a moment, squinting slightly to read the name scrawled in blue ink across his palm, “...V.G. Kiernan.” Loki raised one elegant, black eyebrow at the man; he had worked in that library ever since he had graduated high school some eleven years hence, university being an unnecessary expense, and not once in all those years had he heard anyone ask for that particular book.

“I’m not entirely certain that we have that particular one.” The blonde’s face fell, expression too similar to a kicked puppy for comfort. Even Loki, with his overly harsh outlook on life and general dislike of other people, could not ignore it for long. “I’ll check the computer system, it might be listed on there.” Without sparing the man a backwards glance, Loki turned on his heel and strode back towards the front desk, the echo of boots on stone enough to tell him the man was following not too far behind.

The computer whirred back to wakefulness as Loki took his place behind the ancient machine, setting his glasses back upon the bridge of his nose, hitting the control key a number of times in the hope that the repeated motion might cause the screen to switch from inky black to the stark white of the library control system a few seconds faster. It took almost a minute for the cursor to appear, awkward silence spreading heavily throughout the room as they both waited, the hairs on the back of Loki’s neck standing on end as he realised that the stranger was openly staring at him. Not just watching, but _staring_. To say it was disconcerting was an understatement, and the loud clack-clack-clack as his fingers were finally able to whir across the keyboard was more than welcome.

“Ah, it looks like we _do_ have it, though only one copy. It’s in the general history section.” Grabbing a pen and one of the small notelets they kept behind the desk for just that purpose, Loki scrawled down the shelf and book reference numbers. Handing it to the blonde, green eyes finally looking up to meet blue, their fingers brushed for the briefest of moments. The touch was innocent enough, entirely accidental, but the stranger stepped back, eyes wide, muttering his thanks before dashing off into the bowels of the library, head down in embarrassment.

Loki watched the man go, head cocked in confusion, before huffing out a low laugh at the strange man and taking up position behind the desk on the single chair that sat before the computer screen. The thing was awake, so he might as well get some work done while he was there.

Almost an hour passed before the man returned, clutching the book to his chest and looking rather less mortified than he had when last they spoke. “You found it, then?” Loki did not bother to stand, glancing over the rims of his glasses at the blonde as he took the book from him, waiting a moment for the man to locate his library card and then taking that as well. Opening the cover, he jotted down the man’s name and membership number on the internal card, hand clutching the date stamp hovering over the space where he was meant to place it.

“Is something the matter?” Apparently he had paused for a moment too long; the blonde, ‘Steve’ according to his library card, had noticed the curious look he was giving the square of paper.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Mr Rogers; why is it you were after this book specifically?” He didn’t look up, but the stamp did find its place, black ink smearing slightly, the new date almost disconcertingly dark compared to the one above it from almost eight years previous.

“It was mentioned in one of my classes, I thought it might be a good idea to try to find it. I have to write a paper on Marxism by the end of the month, and this guy - Kiernan - was apparently a well known Marxist historian.” Steve shrugged, leaning on the desk as Loki checked the book out for him on the computer. “I did pretty badly on my last paper, so I need to get top marks on this one, else I’m in big trouble.”

“You’re a student at the university, then?” Why was he continuing such an inane conversation? Loki had no idea, but he found that the words escaped unbidden, and his customer seemed in little hurry to leave, the position of his arms on the desk causing the long sleeved shirt he wore to bulge as heavy muscles flexed behind the fabric.

“Yeah, I’m majoring in American history. Not my first choice, but it’s pretty interesting, and it meant I was able to get a scholarship too. Wouldn’t have been able to go otherwise.”

“If you’re so inclined, have a read of Kiernan’s works on Shakespeare.” Loki handed the book over to the blonde, earning a puzzled look from the man. “I took Literature in high school, used him as one of my references on my final dissertation.” He added by way of explanation.

“You had to write dissertations in _high school_?” Steve asked with a slight chuckle. “Man, that’s rough. I flunked that class anyway, ‘the follies of youth’ as my old man says.”

Loki snorted, pushing his glasses up his nose. “My father would have been furious if I’d failed even one class, it wasn’t an option. I do need to get back to work, though. It has been a pleasure.” He paused for a moment, lips quirking up into a slight smirk as he stood from his seat, before adding, “Steve.”

The rest of the day passed reasonably quickly. Only three more customers made an appearance, none quite so curious as the attractive blonde who had piqued his curiosity, which meant that Loki was able to get all of his filing done and finish the majority of the rest of his book before the end of his shift. With a nod to the young girl who was there to relieve him - Amanda, or something of that ilk, a new employee who likely shouldn’t have been left on her own, but that wasn’t his call to make - he grabbed his coat and headed out into the cold autumn air. October had fled entirely too quickly for his liking, November looming not too far in the distance, and if there was one thing Loki truly hated it was the cold weather of winter.

He lived only a twenty minute walk from the library, through a park and down past one of the nicer parts of town, so saw little use in driving to work. The walk was pleasant enough, if rather brisk, and very often deserted even in the early evening. Footsteps crunched over dead leaves, not yet cold enough for ice but enough that he could not help but shiver, making a mental note to locate one of his scarves before leaving the house again. He made it home in record time, the cold enough to quicken his pace, and sighed happily at the change in temperature as the door clicked shut behind him. One boot thudded to the floor as he pulled it free. His good mood was quickly quashed by a heavy thump and clang from the living room, followed by an entirely unwanted and rather too loud voice booming down the hallway.

“Loki!” Long blonde hair scraped back into a low ponytail and a suit jacket two sizes too small, Thor stepped into view, striding forward to embrace his brother. “I had started to wonder if you were coming home at all.” Arms as thick as tree trunks wrapped almost suffocatingly around him, and Loki found himself pressed to an entirely too wide chest.

“Thor.” With some effort Loki managed to extract himself from his brother’s grip, moving back so he might remove his second boot. “Why, exactly, are you here?”

“Mother sent me. She knew you would not remember the restaurant she had booked for us all tonight, and wanted to make certain you attended.” Ah, of course, the long-dreaded family meal. Truthfully Loki _hadn’t_ forgotten, he simply hadn’t wished to attend. Now, it seemed, he had been given little option. Thor he could ignore, send on his way, caring little for what disappointment his older brother felt. His father...well, the less said about that the better. His mother, however, she was an entirely different story. Loki adored his mother, would do anything if it were to keep her happy, and he knew the disappointment on her face the next time he saw her would be entirely too much to bear should he miss the meal she had spent so long in planning.

“Don’t worry, I hadn’t intended on missing it.” He sighed, knowing Thor could see straight through his lie. His brother knew him entirely too well.

“Go and change then, I shall wait for you here.” Thor had chosen to play his game? Well, that was fine with him, it made things entirely less complicated and at least meant the animosity between the two of them would wait until later. Their mother would appreciate that, at least; she did so hate when her boys fought.

It should not have surprised him that, when they ventured outside some forty five minutes later, the car waiting to pick them up was a Bently. Nor should it have surprised him that it had apparently been loaded with three magnums of champagne for their consumption. That the car ride was to a restaurant only an hour away, and that Loki chose for the most part not to partake in alcohol, seemed to be of little consequence to whichever of their parents - his father, presumably - had arranged such a lavish ‘treat’.

He sat in silence for most of the trip, staring intently out of the window as Thor babbled away incessantly to the busty blonde he had picked out as his date for the evening. Loki was fairly certain the reservation had been for family only, though that had never stopped Thor before; he did so love to have a pretty woman on his arm at all times.

The restaurant itself was as upper-class as he had expected, and Loki could not help but feel horrifically out of place amongst the businessmen and women, and the gold diggers on their arms. It was one of his mother’s favourite restaurants though, and the food was particularly good, but that didn’t change the discomfort he felt as even the waitresses sniffed at his attire. It wasn’t that he was badly dressed per se, just that he saw little reason to spend money on the latest Armani-branded suits when the one he owned was perfectly serviceable.

“My darling Loki, it has been far too long.” The beaming smile from Frigga was enough to pull him from his musings, and he returned it in kind as he embraced his mother tightly, head resting atop hers as she squeezed her arms around his chest. He received little more than a grunt from his father.

“Mother, you are looking as beautiful as ever.” She looped her arm around his waist as they were led to their allocated table. As he had suspected, Thor’s date hadn’t been planned for, and a new place was quickly set for her. She did not seem to notice, hanging off his brother’s every word and giggling at something their father muttered.

“And you grow more handsome each time I see you.” Her happiness was infectious, and Loki found that, despite the cold attitude of Odin to his arrival, he could not help the relief that spread through him at seeing her again after so long.

“So, how has work been?” Taking their seats, it was clear that Frigga had little interest in the inane conversation of her husband and eldest son, though Odin’s annoyance at this did not go unnoticed by either of the pair.

“It has been wonderful, actually.” Loki replied, noting the surprised glance from Thor at his positive response. “We’ve recently received a donation of some very rare and valuable first editions, and the publicity has been fantastic for business. We’ve had three extra grants that we weren’t expecting, so we should be able to renovate the east wing very soon.”

“What, like _Harry Potter_.” Odin snorted derisively from across the table, earning a squeal from Thor’s buxom date.

“Oh I _love_ Harry Potter!” She exclaimed, a little too loudly. “I’ve seen _all_ the films.” It seemed Odin had little idea how to respond to that, and Loki could not help but sigh, his mother’s hand upon his arm a reassuring weight to counteract the headache that was growing behind his eyes.

“I’m almost certain that they released as books before being turned into films.” Thor chuckled to his left, catching his date’s attention, her stare blank.

“Were they? I don’t really read books.” She shrugged, turning back to Odin to ask him about the family art collection; it was no secret that, as a family, their worth was in the millions. The woman was quite obviously another nameless gold-digger, and from the look on his face even Thor, who ordinarily would have remained entirely oblivious to such things, had realised it.

The evening dragged on, and their food finally arrived after three separate amuse-bouche that, while delicious, were entirely too small in size to even dampen the gnawing hunger in Loki’s belly; his lunch still sat in the small fridge at work, entirely forgotten, so the last time he had eaten anything substantial had been at eight that morning, almost twelve hours hence.

“So, Loki.” Odin finally addressed his youngest son, staring across at the slender, dark-haired man who held no resemblance to either father or mother, knife poised above the steak-and-lobster monstrosity he had ordered. “When are you going to quit that silly job of yours and settle down?”

“Excuse me?” None present, save perhaps the date who was poking at her salad, missed the twinkle of malice in the older man’s eye, or the way his lip curled in what was closer to a grimace than a grin. Loki knew he was being purposefully baited, and despite that he could not help the way his hackles raised, fists tightening around eating utensils that were delicate enough to bend under the increase in pressure.

“It’s all well and good you playing at work, but playtime is over. You’re nearly thirty, you need to find yourself a nice girl to settle down with and have a few children. When are you going to start thinking about the future of the family, rather than your own selfish desires?” The room went silent, other diners clearly listening in to the conversation, biting words enough to make Thor wince and Frigga turn an icy glare on her husband.

There were many things Loki could have said at that point; he could have pointed out his father’s extra-marital activities, or the fact that it mattered little to the family whether he reproduced or not considering his status as the adopted child, yet he found there was nothing he could use that would not hurt his mother, and he would never purposefully do such a thing. Standing, Loki all but slammed his napkin down on the table. “How about never, is that alright with you?” His voice dripped with venom, and if looks could kill Odin would have already taken his last breath. He did not bother to wait for a response, storming from the building and out into the cold night air, barely feeling the bite of ice against his skin, coat long forgotten back in the restaurant.

He had been walking for nearly twenty minutes by the time he realised his folly, hands like ice and shivering uncontrollably, breath misting as the temperature dropped to almost freezing. He could not turn back, he had walked too far and to return to the restaurant to retrieve his coat would be too much of a dent to his pride to bear. Lights streamed from the windows of cafes and bars, flashing and garish with music entirely too loud for his tastes. He knew this part of town, had frequented it as a youth with too much spare cash and not enough to do with his time. He was older now though, and hopefully wiser; a fix and a quickie were things of the past, though he found that the warmth of crushing bodies still called to him, bones aching as his fingers forgot how to feel.

As he rounded the corner, Loki spotted a familiar diner, somewhere he had adored as a child, before the nanny who had taken both he and his brother there for shakes and cookies had been fired. They were still, thankfully, open, and the promise of a warm drink and something to eat set his stomach growling once more. His wallet, thankfully, sat in his back pocket along with his phone, the man never quite trusting restaurant staff not to take a peek were he to leave either in his coat.

“What can I get you, love?” If the woman at the till noticed his half-frozen state, she did not mention it. ‘Linda’ her name badge stated, around the age of his mother, and he imagined she would have been quite the looker in her prime. hair tied into a loose bun and makeup just enough to enhance what was still there, she was an attractive woman.

“Hot chocolate with cream and a pancake stack, please.” The librarian muttered, numb fingers attempting to dig a slightly torn note from his wallet.

“Marshmallows on the chocolate and bacon with the pancakes?” Linda asked, punching keys on the till without even looking at it.

“Mm, please.” Loki replied, finally tugging the twenty free and handing it over. It took longer still for him to figure out how get his change back into the folded leather wallet, by which point Linda had abandoned the till and retreated back into the kitchen. She returned with his hot chocolate and pointed him to a booth directly below one of their ceiling heaters, for which he was extremely grateful.

His pancakes had barely arrived when, with surprisingly little fanfare, Thor slid into the seat across from him. “You forgot your coat.” The older man near enough grumbled at his younger brother, and Loki half expected to be chastised by the blonde.

“I was in a bit of a rush.” Loki was entirely too quiet, too unlike himself, and Thor did not like it. He was used to snide comments and that infuriating grin, not this silent, somber, shivering man sat across from him.

“Mother asked that I give you this, as she did not have chance to do so herself.” Keeping the subject off of Odin and his legendary lack of tact, Thor pushed a small, neatly wrapped box across the table top until it sat beside the towering stack of pancakes that stood before Loki. He took it with still-trembling fingers, carefully unwrapping the box and opening it to reveal a matching set of emerald-set cufflinks, the stones a surprisingly close match to the colour of his eyes. “She has said she will come and see you soon as well, but these will have to do for now.” Loki knew what that meant; Frigga had, once again, spent a small fortune on him but had not been able to shower him with the gifts she had likely spent the past year amassing while at the restaurant in front of his father.

“She spoils me.” Loki sighed, the sound too soft to be one of annoyance, and Thor did not miss the fond expression on his face.

“She loves you, as do I.” Blue eyes stared across at him with such sincerity that Loki could do little to quell the surge of laughter that rumbled from his chest.

“And you spoil me as well.” He chuckled, shaking his head at his older brother.

“You are worth spoiling.” Another gift was pushed across the table, larger this time and sloppily wrapped in what looked to be last year’s Christmas paper. There was no doubt about it, this one was from Thor himself, and as Loki pulled off the badly placed paper wrappings his eyes went wide.

“You really didn’t need to.” Despite his protest, Loki could not hide the pleased grin on his face, turning the book over in his hands, holding the leather-bound tome almost reverently in his hands, pages yellowed from time and slightly bent corners only adding to the majesty of the object he held.

“You don’t have that one, I take it?” Thor’s grin now matched his own, his own pleasure at the delight on Loki’s face evident.

“No, I don’t, and I could never have dreamed of owning it either.” Carefully, oh so carefully, he began to leaf through the volume; spells and incantations stared back at him, images sketched out oh so beautifully lined the pages, and every now and then he found notes from a previous owner, scribbled in the margins. The pencil marks should, perhaps, have irritated him, however it seemed that whoever had penned them had known at least partly what they were talking about, and he found the little notes fascinating if nothing else.

“Happy birthday, little brother.”


	2. In which Steve mimics a tomato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one; chapter lengths will vary MASSIVELY in this, purely because of the way I'm splitting the story.

“Hello, Earth to Steve.” The blonde jumped in his seat as fingers clicked before his eyes, glaring at his friend from across the table as the pencil between his fingers dug into the paper he had been lightly sketching upon.

“Leave him be, Tony. Steve clearly has a lot on his mind at the moment.” He turned to offer Natasha a lopsided smile, the woman returning the expression warmly.

“That’s great and all, but we have a party to plan, and Captain Lovesick here needs to help out whether he likes it or not.” That garnered another glare from the blonde, who gave up trying to draw entirely.

“I am not lovesick, don’t be ridiculous.” Tony simply laughed at that, while Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, you’ve been doing nothing but staring into space and drawing the same damn guy every day for over a week. You’re pining.”

“I am not!”

“Then who is this, hm?” Tony snatched the paper from under him, turning it around so he could see the pencil marks clearer. It wasn’t a brilliant likeness, but as the brunette stared down at the paper, something seemed to click. With a frown, he passed the drawing over to Natasha, who glanced at him in confusion for a moment, before her own eyes widened in recognition.

“What?” Steve’s eyes flitted from one to the other, concern evident on his face. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Is this...it looks like Loki.”

“Who’s Loki?”

“It doesn’t just _look_ like, Tasha. That _IS_ Loki. How many guys around here do you know with hair like that, and that nose. Not to mention the chin, and the high cheekbones.”

“Guys? Could someone please tell me who you’re talking about?” His questions fell on deaf ears it seemed, as the pair continued to study the sketch.

“The neck isn’t quite right, but I’d know those eyes anywhere.” Natasha finally pushed the paper back to Steve, both she and Tony levelling serious expressions at him as he squirmed in his seat.

“Will one of you please tell me who the hell Loki is?”

“He’s Thor’s little brother.” Steve felt as though the ground had opened up beneath him, or wished it had, inhaling sharply as his nostrils flared. Thor was a friend, a _good_ friend, and while Steve was a relatively new addition to the friendship group he valued the man’s trust above all else.

“Thor is _not_ gonna be okay with this, you know that right?” Tony had a knack for stating the obvious, and in most cases making the situation worse.

“You mean like he wasn’t okay with you stealing Lola from under his nose?” Natasha asked, earning a snort from Clint as he sat down opposite the redhead, tray clattering to the table and fries slipping from the paper carton.

“Hey, she came to me, I just made the best of the situation.” The brunette shrugged, stealing a handful of Clint’s fries from his plate and almost ending up with a fork in the back of his hand for the trouble. “Anyway, my point is, this is way worse than the Lola situation. Thor is ridiculously overprotective of the wormy little-” At a glare from Natasha, he paused for a moment before continuing. “Of Loki. He’d _kill_ you if he found out you and he were doing the nasty.”

“ _Tony_!” The kick Natasha levelled at the brunette’s leg was sharp enough even Clint winced at the impact, though he couldn’t help but grin as Tony yelped in pain, drawing the attention of the few diners who sat around them.

“I’m not...that is...I’ve only seen the guy once, and you don’t even know it’s _him_!” Steve protested, face doing an exceedingly good impression of a ripe tomato as he sank down in his seat.

“That kinda makes it worse.” Tony mumbled, still rubbing at his shin. “A bit stalkerish if you ask me.”

“So where did you meet him?” Natasha placed a gentle hand upon his arm, soft smile doing little to ease the pounding of his heart within his chest.

“The library.” Steve near enough squeaked.

“Ah.” Natasha withdrew her hand, smile turning sympathetic. “Yes, that would be Loki.”


	3. In which the weather makes for an interesting evening

“You can’t keep hiding out here for the rest of the afternoon.” The knock on the window to his left caused Steve to practically jump through the roof of his soft-top Audi, heart pounding like a jackhammer within his chest. Natasha made her way around the car and tugged the passenger door open, sliding in to sit beside him. “You’ve made this into far too much of a big deal, when really it’s not.”

“No, _Tony_ made this into a big deal, I’m just dealing with the aftermath.” He groaned in response, leaning his head against the top of the steering wheel.

“I’d kick his ass for you, if I thought there was a chance he wouldn’t enjoy it.” That earned a low chuckle from the distressed blonde, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as she gave his leg a light squeeze.

“Maybe I should just give up. Go home, order the biggest, greasiest pizza I can find and finish the evening off with a six pack of beer.”

“Now you’re just being melodramatic.” Natasha poked him, hard, in the ribs, earning an undignified squeak from the man. “You’re over-thinking this. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.” He knew she would not take no for an answer, and as tempting as it was to simply remain in the car, watching as she got further and further away from him until she vanished beyond the large doors of the library, he knew that there would be hell to pay if he did that.

That, and he couldn’t be certain that she would not spill everything to this ‘Loki’ out of spite, as vindictive as she could be at times.

“Tash, wait.” Locking the car doors behind him, Steve dashed after the retreating redhead, reaching her just as she started the ascent of the library steps. It had started to rain, only light spots splashing upon the pavement and vanishing almost immediately, but the heavy grey clouds were promising so much more.

“Ah good, you’re here.” She strode over to the dark-haired librarian, who raised one elegant eyebrow at the smiling redhead, an expression Steve had committed to memory from the last time he had been there.

“And where else would I be?” Steve’s heart was going nineteen to the dozen in his chest, and he was certain that it would be heard in the deafening quiet of the library, but Loki seemed entirely unfazed by his presence.

“Thor said you should be.” Loki frowned; why would Romanov be enquiring about his location? He didn’t mind the woman, far from it in fact; she was the only one of Thor’s friendship group that the younger Odinson could stand to be around for any length of time. The first time they had met, Natasha had commented on how she felt sorry for anyone lumbered with Thor as an older brother, earning a snort of laughter from Loki. Thor had pouted and complained and the two had become fast friends. “I need a favour.” Ah, that was it. This was familiar ground, this he knew.

“Just get the book, I’ll sort it out.” He sighed, tapping away at the computer to find a record that had not been used for a while, one that he could monitor to ensure late fees and reminder letters would not be posted to some poor, unsuspecting individual. Natasha had very distinctive tastes in books, and it did not always do for them to be displayed on so public a record as her library card. He didn’t question why, didn’t need to know, and she seemed to prefer it that way.

“Thank you, I won’t be long.” She strode off into the bowels of the library, seemingly knowing exactly where she needed to be. Steve stood and fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking every bit like the awkward teen he had grown out of some years hence. 

“You don’t have to stand there looking like you’re waiting for a dentist appointment, you know. There are seats.” Loki had returned to working on whatever form he had been filling in upon their arrival, every so often glancing over the top of his glasses at the clearly flustered blonde. He took in the slightly mussed hair from where Steve’s fingers had run through the dark blonde locks, the flush that coloured his cheekbones and the way he fidgeted, unable to stand still, gaze not quite knowing where to look. Natasha often seemed to have that effect on men, it seemed, and while this one did not particularly seem like her type Loki had to admit to himself that the man was almost maddeningly attractive.

“No, it’s fine, she seems to know what she’s looking for. I don’t think we’ll be taking up too much of your time.” Steve was amazed he managed all of that without a single stuttered syllable, though Loki did not seem to notice.

“Well this _is_ a public library, far be it for me to dictate when you can or cannot be here.” He glanced at the clock on the wall as the owner strode through the entrance, offering him a nod in passing as she disappeared into the back room. “I have fifteen minutes to finish this before the end of my shift, so if you don’t mind I’ll be getting back to it.” He hadn’t meant to sound quite so harsh, and the look of embarrassment on the blonde’s face sent a slight pang of guilt through his chest as he realised how it must have sounded to the man.

“Right, yes. Sorry.” He should have just waited in the car. He should have sat in the car, waited for Tash to return with her book, and then he would never have had to face the awkward silence or the notion that he was both a stranger and an annoyance to the man he had seemingly fallen for. It wasn’t as if he knew anything about Loki, aside from his name and that he was Thor’s younger brother.

“Found it.” That had to have been the most awkward ten minutes of his life, and Steve knew it was not likely to be over yet. Loki filed away the now completed form and had just finished checking out the book under an alias that could not be traced back to Natasha when his boss emerged from the back room, hair scraped back into a severe bun and dressed in what he knew to be an Armani suit simply due to the fact that his mother owned the same one.

“You can clock out, dear.” He moved out of the seat so she could take it, noting her disapproving stare at the redhead and the look of amusement she spared for the mortified blonde, who had spent the past three minutes staring determinedly at his boots.

“Oh, you’re done for the day? I’m meeting Phil in an hour for dinner, but we can go grab a coffee if you would like?” Natasha smiled sweetly at the dark-haired librarian, who opened his mouth to reply and was cut off by a flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder.

“Oh dear, I hope you brought an umbrella with you?” Loki swore under his breath as he grabbed his coat and strode past the two standing before the desk, staring out into the downpour that had started some minutes previous.

“Steve can give you a ride home, don’t worry about it.” Tugging a pocket umbrella from her purse, Natasha swept past him and out of the door, vanishing quickly in the unexpected downpour, no further mention of the coffee she had promised. Steve simply stood and stared after her knowing that somehow, _somehow_ , she had planned this.

“My car’s just out front.” Steve motioned to place a hand upon Loki’s shoulder, before thinking better of it and letting his arm fall uselessly to his side.

“Thank you but no, I’m perfectly capable of walking.” Tugging his coat on, wishing he had brought one a little more waterproof and preferably with a hood, Loki stilled as another crash of thunder sounded overhead.

“In this weather? You’ll get soaked, I can’t let you walk home in this.”

“And yet you allowed your girlfriend to waltz out the door like it was nothing.” Loki could not keep the slight bite from his voice, and he wasn’t entirely certain as to why he found the idea of their relationship to be an irritation.

“What? Tash isn’t my girlfriend.” If it was possible to Steve to flush any deeper at that point, he knew he would have, though as it was his tomato-imitation was just about perfect. “She’s pretty and all, but she’s just not my type.” Loki made a noncommittal noise by way of response, dragging his phone from his pocket as it pinged loudly, Romanov’s name popping up on the screen.

_‘I’ve called Thor to let him know not to worry, and that Steve’s giving you a ride home.’_

Which meant that if Thor found out he had walked home then both he _and_ the blushing blonde would be in for it. He swore under his breath again before shoving his phone back into his pocket and shooting Steve an impatient look. “So where is this car of yours?”

Despite the fact that the car in question was parked near enough right at the bottom of the steps to the library, by the time they reached it both men were drenched through. As soon as they slammed the doors shut, Steve switched on the heaters to clear the rising fog behind the windshield, the pair sitting in silence for several long moments as the glass fogged over and then, slowly, began to clear again.

“You’ll need to direct me, I don’t know this area all that well.” Steve admitted as he turned the key in the ignition, firing the engine into life.

“Just keep going straight at the lights, then take a left at the bakery.” Loki glanced over at his quiet companion, thin shirt sticking to rain-soaked skin, every muscle displayed in sharp relief against the now near enough transparent fabric. It was quite the sight to behold, and he had to tear his eyes away before the clearly shy blonde caught him staring. “So how do you know Romanov?”

“Tash? I met her through Thor.” At Loki’s sudden interest in the conversation, Steve found himself flushing lightly, taking a left turn as directed. “I only moved here recently, Thor and I are members at the same gym. We started talking in the weights room and the rest is, as they say, history.”

“I’m not sure I’ve heard him mention you before.” Though, considering Loki had a tendency to tune out most of what his brother said to him, that might not have been entirely true. He didn’t miss the slightly hurt expression on the blonde’s face though, and wondered for a moment what this man’s relationship with his brother was precisely.

Except, that was a ridiculous thought; Thor was as straight as an arrow, Loki berated himself, thought process going to further as he remembered just in time to direct Steve to turn right.

The trip took less than five minutes in total despite the slow speed at which Steve had been driving, roads all but deserted. Parked directly outside his home, Loki glanced out the window at the pouring rain, coming down even heavier now. Two lightning strikes flickered across the sky directly overhead, lighting up the darkened streets, their howl combining into one. It was barely possible to see the next lamppost, much less any hazards in the road. Loki frowned; it seemed it was his turn to return the favour. “You are not driving any further in this, I will sort us something to eat.”

Standing in the hallway of his home, Loki realised that he was faced with quite the conundrum; rainwater ran off his soaked clothing in rivulets, a puddle already forming around his feet on the parquet flooring. He did not wish to lose his deposit by ruining the carpet on his stairs and bedroom, and nor did he wish to pay out to replace said carpets, however he could not move from the hallway without doing so. Turning to look at Steve, it seemed that the blonde had come to the same conclusion he had and shot him a slightly regretful look.

“I could go?”

“I’m not about to invite you in and then ask you to simply leave.” The younger Odinson scoffed, offering the blonde an amused look. “The bathroom is at the top of the stairs, towels are in the cupboard under the sink. Strip off here and leave your wet clothes, I won’t look. I’m sure I have some of Thor’s old clothes somewhere that should fit you.”

He wasn’t being entirely truthful; Loki had every intention of watching Steve strip down to his boxers. Facing away from him, he could only see the expanse of the man’s back as the sodden shirt was peeled away from his skin, landing with a wet smack upon the solid floor, pronounced muscles flexing as they worked to unbuckle his belt. It was clear that Steve, while no match in size for his brother, clearly worked out regularly and took great pride in his appearance, his body akin to that of a Grecian god.

When jeans and socks joined the pile, Loki glanced away, though not after admiring the newly exposed legs and ass of his present house guest. Starting to remove his own shirt, Loki’s eyes widened as there was another shift in movement behind him, the wet slap of fabric on the floor and he knew, without looking, that Steve’s boxers had joined the pile. He wanted to look, needed to, but then Steve was gone up the stairs, two at a time, and Loki could only catch a glimpse of his bare posterior before the bathroom door clicked shut.

Left alone in the hallway, shivering slightly, Loki stared after the retreating form long after he had vanished. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, before stripping off the rest of his own clothing with a frown and leaving the pile to drip upon the hallway floor as he followed the blonde upstairs, searching for something he could wear.

_Towel wrapped around his waist, hiding at least some of his modesty, Loki pressed himself against the tall blonde’s back, teeth scraping against the back of Steve’s neck as deft fingers ran along strong muscles, pressing and relaxing and teasing as they went. Steve turned to face him, face flushed slightly as he captured Loki’s lips in a searing kiss._

How much time had passed? Five minutes? Ten? Loki berated himself as he stood from the bed, where he had sat for what had meant to be only a moment, his imagination getting the better of him. He had lost himself to a fantasy about a man he had met twice, who he barely knew, and who was presently standing, entirely nude, in his bathroom. A pair of sweatpants, far too large to fit his own slender hips, lay forgotten at his feet. Rummaging in the drawer in front of him, he was able to find a loose hoodie, unbranded and forgotten, unlikely to fit Thor in his current state. Steve would have to go without boxers for the moment, but was that such a bad thing? Loki decided that no, it really wasn’t. Grabbing the pants and top, he rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. He had at least managed to at least half dress himself before his little fantasy derailed his search for clothing, for that he was grateful, naked from the waist up but otherwise entirely decent.

“Thank you.” Steve had unlocked the bathroom door and taken the dry clothes from Loki, eyes anywhere but on the half-naked beauty before him, every now and then glancing back to the pale expanse of milky chest that was on show. He seemed unsure as to what he should do; retreating back into the bathroom seemed rude with Loki stood directly in the doorway, and it wasn’t until the older man turned with a smirk and left him to it that Steve was finally able to push the door shut once more, leaning against it and letting the towel and clothes fall to the floor so that he could scrub at his face with his hands.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Thor was going to kill him.


End file.
